Poem 17: CHAOS

The fires we start, flames flicker, leaves burn,
A life is thriving in a bedroom filled
With echoes of fairy tales,
A thunder, a storm, ready to return,
To the land destroyed by men holding their ales.

The devils continue making deals,
Horses all scared, hitting their heels,
The mother of all existence,
Humans capturing their pathos,
The core of life can be found,
In the comfort of chaos.

Can you taste the bitterness in the air?
Once again lost, a scary sunset,
Stars glimmering somewhere.
Place your expectations on the table,
We have guests, wait, be patient.

Conversations blurred,
My screams were unheard,
My mind losing track of every word,
The creatures are now sharpening their claws,
They are smart, wild, exiled,
Who are you kidding? They have no laws.
Through the silent streets they crawl.

I wake up from this nightmare,
Will somebody finally care,
I wake up from a nightmare,
wishing I’m in a pretty castle somewhere,
I am stuck in darkness, cold air,
In a special place for the outcast,
Limbo, a chaos of my past.

Poem 16: WORDS

All these poems I wrote for you,
Beautiful, true maybe even cruel,
But all these words, I spit and throw up,
Like liquid sunsets mixed in with the sea,
Meaningless, a lost cause,
Cremated, but now an oak tree.
Birds stuck inside my hair,
Hair birthed from the ashes of the night sky,
They whisper words into my ear,
Words only I understand,
Only I’m able to comprehend.

I dreamt I was dancing, naked,
In the middle of a destruction,
In the middle of the remains
Of what was a battle field.
I danced, and danced.
Till my feet bled,
Till my legs gave in,
Till the sky was dusky red,
Till the enemies feared my power,
And fled.

I dreamt I was dancing,
In the middle of a destruction,
Beneath a torn moon,
The stars cried, we confused it as rain,
It is all a mere illusion,
A delusion created for us,
We truly do own nothing,
Not even our own bodies,
It belongs to the ground.

We simply seek and search,
A moon that’s full,
In one piece, exploding with energy,
A sky so bright, thriving with life,
That showed no cracks and does not leak.
Perfection, does not need to be unique,
Simply undamaged,
A sky that will camouflage our flaws,
Even guilts, shames, cries, and evils.
Upheavals.

No soul is perfect, or pure,
Bury your conscience,
We are all a little fucked up,
Nothing makes sense anymore,
Similar to this poem,
Because we are all a little broken,
From words that was spoken,
But more from words that were unspoken.

Let your skin soak in my tears,
Watch quietly,
As I undress to the world,
I watched the white tunnel disappear,
A failed attempt, once again,
My saviour. Is he really a saviour?
Now you can kiss me goodbye,
Without any spoken words.

Poem 15: TRANSITION

The fear of change,
Newness consuming eternity,
Intrigued by the obscure,
Ponder but endure,
We are merely lost in transition,
Seeking for a bit of sanity,
Yet without a bit of fantasy,
It’s all a tragic calamity.
Blossoming petals, greenery,
The spring equinox’s allure.
A touch so warm,
Skin discovering skin,
Lips exploring the universes,
Hidden behind every scar,
Sometimes a cry,
Cigarettes put out on a child’s arm,
A tear drops from a dark brown eye.
We all grow old,
With time hearts become cold,
Eyes look lifeless,
Ears are now deaf from the silence,
You slur your words, my love,
Once again you are drunk,
My lips are the wine,
But I fear, this is all a great sin,
Don’t worry it is all fine,
We are all merely lost in transition.

Poem 14: CITY

The city drowning in loneliness,
It calls out your name. Flowers and weed,
Concrete monsters. Nature laughter euphonious.
A rich sun shining, doesn’t discriminate what breed.

Now open your ears, listen to the city,
Sleep until noon, dream that life is leaking,
Between the cracks of our souls. Gritty.
Clouds hiding daylight, conquer, be a king.

Day is night, breakfast is dinner, kneel and pray,
For this city is drowning in loneliness,
No matter how far away,
We are trapped and it is not only us.

Poem 13: WALK AWAY

My thoughts are bitter
The world crumbling in its essence. Shiver.
A simple stroke of guitar strings. Brings together,
A melody, rhythm, hope maybe even melancholy.

Life should be avoided at all cost,
Anguish, misery, catastrophe. Mind lost.
Thunder like a hollow echo,
Walls travel you back to the 30s, art deco.

A violin playing for my sorrows,
The bows cut through, like arrows.
She cries on the kitchen floor,
Her mind an on-going war.

Walk away I plead,
Don’t be so naïve,
Walk away or grieve,
Walk away or forever deceive.

Poem 12: DREAM

My mind dizzy from the sweet red wine,
Laughter echoing, with great conversation,
Hours felt like minutes, our heart beats align,
Comfortable silences were a mere confirmation.

Silky bed sheets touching the bare skin,
The room warm, sweat dripping,
Butterflies trying to escape from within,
The ten thousand layers of walls, stripping.

Voice spoke to me like a lullaby,
It was deep and a hint of misty,
the stars can’t shine without a black sky,
I drank red wine, you drank whiskey.

It was a lovely dream while it lasted,
So, let us forget what the past did.

Poem 11: SKIN

In my chest, my ribs protect,
Hard bones, a dying fire,
An empty void I neglect,
Surrounded by electrical barb wire.

My demons awaken,
The wolves, howl with the full moon,
Every creature which sleeps inside. God-forsaken.
What a sad, lonely tune.

They confuse my kindness,
Assume it is weakness. Sinister grin.
I introduce hell,
It wears my skin.

Melissa Johnson

Poem 10: DAY & NIGHT

Sipping my tea, knock on the door. A visitor.
Golden long wavy hair, dancing with the breeze,
The dark sky fading, sunrise. Warm beauty. Sinister.
Her smile earnest, a little keen. I’m at ease.

Together we sipped our tea. Sweet and milky. Peaceful Harmony.
Silence broke as the world woke from its sleep,
Her eyes cut through the morning ray. “I devour darkness. Eternally.”
“He is my love, my sweetheart. But cannot live when I’m near.” Weep.

She is my source of life, no need for fear,
For when she’s around. Time had fled.
I took a glimpse to her seat. Gone. I shed a tear.
She was my sun, my day. Widespread.

The world was asleep, a trespasser in my presence,
cloak woven with shadows; I knew then. Darkness.
I trembled in my seat. Breathe, smile, patience.
His love was day, the sun, the light. He could not be heartless.

His black deep eyes stared into my soul,
He spoke, “I do not ask for much child,”
Voice deep and cold, “I am what you cannot control.”
“I am fear, the unknown, dangers of hope.” Cunningly smiled.

He was my desires in physical form. Maybe upside down.
Although, I was no longer afraid,
I was allowed to dream, to desire, with him around.
He was my moon, my night, my fantasies in a darker shade.

Melissa Johnson.

Poem 9: SPRING

Trees older than time, whisper, a broken twig,
A tiny bird, followed by butterflies, wishing for spring.
The earth’s smell we breathe in, tangled legs in devil’s fig,
Blossoming petals, luminous leaves. A lost sea king.

Confined between the four walls we call home,
So, we are told. As we press pause on life,
For a glimpse of hope we pray, for the world, for Rome.
I wonder, will this give us flowers and harmony, or simply more strife?

Yet it puts me at ease,
The knowledge that nature does not discriminate, or care,
Time pursues. Thus, the days we must seize,
April, blue skies, wet grass, warmth of the sun in the air.

The prisoners of the epidemic need to breathe,
Open a window, watch the world thrive,
Without human life. Birds singing down beneath,
With humanity and spring, the human race shall survive.

Melissa Johnson

Poem 8: LONELINESS

The flowers once beaten by foot prints,
Now finding life with the rain,
Staring down at the city through stained windows, ever since,
The plague that took over. The suffering, the pain.

It was anticipated, expected, planned. The future foreseen.
Not in a tiny ball perhaps but, it was bound to creep back
This lonely feeling. Every human being,
Falling asleep to the city’s silence. A unison soundtrack.

I miss even a singular touch. Already?
The intimacy of a warm hand. How petty.
Lips rubbing on my back, neck and cheeks.
The memories of physical affection, feels like weeks.

Yet, why do we complain? With such foolishness,
Loneliness sings us a story, the truth. Whispers and secrets.
A sky crying. The crescent moon aligned, stars luminous,
Our eyes scanning for a pleasant presence. Restlessly seeking.

I am all alone,
My sanity in half, its torn.

Melissa Johnson.